


Disdain is Only as Intense as Similarity

by ninathena



Series: Kink Meme [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angry Sex, Choking, Emotionally Bellarke, Exhibitionism, F/M, Light Dom/sub, Mildly Dubious Consent, Physically Becho, Public Sex, Sex for Peace, The 100 Kink Meme, Tree Sex, Voyeurism, grounders made them do it, not sure how to tag this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-23
Updated: 2017-03-23
Packaged: 2018-10-09 11:42:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10411362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninathena/pseuds/ninathena
Summary: Some filthy smut for the kink meme.Takes place in 4.05. Clarke and Roan's agreement requires a little more than just a handshake. Bellamy begrudgingly agrees to have sex with Echo, and Clarke begrudgingly agrees to watch. Clarke becomes all hot and bothered and Bellamy very much enjoys that.Becho sex, but it's more Bellarke than anything tbh.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Figured I'd clean it up a bit and post it for everyone to enjoy.

"Wait, what?" Clarke's eyes are wide and disbelieving, outrage exuding from her.  
  
"Those are the terms," Roan says, clear and calm, as if he hadn't just told them all that if they wanted peace Echo and Bellamy had to fuck.  
  
Clarke seems to find some kind of barely there control, inhaling deep and pushing her shoulders back, ready for a fight. "I'm sorry. But that's not happening."  
  
Roan tilts his head refusing to play anymore games. He thinks he's been more than lenient and accommodating when it comes to Skaikru, and specifically Clarke. But this slight with the hidden natblida and a ship that will only save themselves from praimfaya, was the last straw. As Echo liked to continuously remind him, as king he could only allow someone to get away with so much before his people began to think him weak.  
  
"If you don't want this ending in unnecessary death, like you say," Roan sneers, "then you will agree to this."  
  
Clarke's speechless, mouth opening as if to argue but it's like all the air has left her lungs. "I told you," she says, desperation seeping in, "Bellamy's not my second."  
  
"And Echo's not mine. But it's close enough."  
  
She can feel her composure begin to disappear, all out of ideas on how to get them out of this one.  
  
"Clarke." Bellamy says it softly, gently, like he's already given up and is only trying to ease her into it.  
  
" _No_ ," she snaps at him, hair flying as she spins back to Roan. "Roan, this is insane."  
  
"This is the only way. Do you accept the terms, or do you choose war?"  
  
She feels hopeless, not to mention horrified, and her face begins to fall with defeat.  
  
"Clarke." And again, Bellamy's soft, sandpaper voice comes from beside her, and she can't help the sudden emotion the springs up at the sound of it. She slams her eyes shut before turning to look at him, eyes begging him for an idea. But it's his hands that catch her attention, rage flaming within her at the sight of those fucking shackles.  
  
"Take these off him," she demands Echo, holding Bellamy's wrist. The spy looks to Roan who gives her a curt nod before she acts, unlocking the rusty shackles.  
  
"Well?" Roan questions.  
  
Clarke finds Bellamy's eyes, her sorry ones meeting his sad ones. "It's okay," he mutters.  
  
She watches him for a moment more before swallowing, frowning at Roan. "Does this have to be done now, or can they wait?"  
  
"No time like the present."  
  
She releases an irritated huff, shaking her head. "Fine."

"Wise choice." He unsheathes a wicked little blade, sliding it across his palm before offering it handle side to her. Her doctor's mind is wary of such an unhealthy practice, but if Bellamy can have sex with the woman that betrayed him, she can mix some blood with the Ice King. Clarke is sure to meet his steady gaze as their hands wrap around each other, her grip firm despite the shakiness she feels.  
  
There's a long pause of awkwardness, no one quite knowing what to do first. But Echo just raises her chin, beginning to unbuckle and unlace her many layers.  
  
Bellamy and Clarke both suck in breaths at the same time. "Wait, here?"  
  
Roan shakes his head. "Where would you suggest, Wanheda?"  
  
She takes a step towards the Ice King, pointedly ignoring the sound of Echo's clothing as it drops to the forest floor. "Somewhere where they can have privacy."  
  
Roan looks around, only half mocking. "There's no one else here."  
  
" _We're_ here!" Clarke explodes, the tenuous grip on her anger starting to slip, the stupidity of this whole scenario becoming worse by the second.  
  
"Who else would be officiating the act? They're our people, therefore it's our responsibility to be sure the act is completed."  
  
She doesn't think she can become anymore horrified by this whole thing. She releases a breath, her chest constricting painfully. She turns hesitantly to look back at Bellamy, eyes saying what she can't, _I'm sorry. I hate this. Please don't hate me for asking you to do this._ He only nods, understanding and somber before his eyes cut to Echo, now standing naked without an ounce of shame in the middle of the open forest.  
  
Bellamy's whole countenance changes at that, eyes becoming hard and jaw becoming tight. He tugs off his guard jacket with jerky, determined moves, hands reaching behind his head to pull off his shirt. Clarke blinks, lips parting. While she's still absolutely disgusted by this entire situation, this is the first time she's ever seen Bellamy shirtless, and despite the way it's happening, it still makes her breath catch and her face flush at the beautiful sight of his smooth chest and hard stomach.  
  
Bellamy removes the rest of his clothing with just as much confidence, seething eyes never leaving Echo. Clarke notices he hasn't looked over at her once, and she supposes the only way for him to get through this is to ignore her presence completely.  
  
Once he's naked she remains respectful, doesn't let her eyes wander down past his abs, even if her mind keeps whispering that he wouldn't care, that he wouldn't know. Just a quick flick of her eyes and that's all it would take. But she remains resolute, Bellamy deserves better than that.  
  
There's another moment of awkward silence as the four of them all stand together, unsure and uncomfortable- well, she and Bellamy anyway, Echo and Roan appear mostly at ease.  
  
Then Bellamy turns his hands palms up. "Well," he grunts with a bold yet blasé attitude, "come get it." Echo's chest rises as she inhales with surprise, cold expression melting a bit. She's nervous, Clarke realizes. But the woman's confidence returns just as quick, stepping out of her pool of grounder clothes and striding over to Bellamy like she's in control.  
  
When they're chest to chest Echo pushes up, head turning as she leans in. Bellamy tilts back, hand snapping up quick and grabbing her jaw, fingers pressing none to delicately into her skin. Echo's eyes bug out along with Clarke's, both surprised at Bellamy's rough treatment.  
  
"I'm not kissing you," he growls, lips barely moving.  
  
There's a moment between them, one Clarke can't quite understand, where Echo looks almost ashamed and Bellamy looks almost apologetic, and a heated feeling comes over her. She knows what it is but she also knows it's ridiculous. There's nothing here to be jealous over, nothing here to envy. This is nothing more than a quick fuck for peace, and the fact that Bellamy isn't even hers to be jealous over anyways just proves how silly the feeling is.  
  
But she can't shake it.  
  
"Kiss, don't kiss, just get on with it already," Roan huffs with impatience. His voice breaks the tense moment, Bellamy and Echo both glancing over, and it's the first time since this started that Bellamy's eyes meet Clarke's. They're hard and black, but just starting to soften till he tears them away from her. She refuses to acknowledge how much it hurts.

There's a tree behind him, old and weathered, roots thick and twisting around each other before plunging back into the earth. This is where Echo pushes him, his feet tripping over themselves as he stumbles back before his ass drops on a wide root with a grunt, his hand catching the wood just in time to slow his fall.  
  
Clarke clenches her fists, indignation for Bellamy flashing through her. This isn't fair. It isn't fair for her to once again ask him to take on the responsibilities of her choices. To deal with the grunt work and carry the shame of her decisions.  
  
Bellamy's gaze travels up Echo's lithe, athletic body, lingering at her breasts. It's a look of desire and temptation, and Clarke has a sudden burning ache for him to look at _her_ that way, for his soft eyes to caress her body. Then he turns up to Echo's face, his expression growing cold and determined.  
  
Echo places a hand on his shoulder, steadying herself as she climbs onto his lap. It's the first time they've really touched, Bellamy swallowing heavily while Echo's eyes flutter. Then her hand is between their bodies, slipping down, down and Clarke has to turn away, unable to force herself to watch. But she hears it, hears Bellamy's soft grunt, as if he were trying to hold himself back, then Echo's near silent sigh, like she was trying to do the same.  
  
A strange thought pops into Clarke's mind, wondering when the last time he's done this was. She prays that it wasn't with Gina. Hopes that there's been someone since then that he's found some sort of comfort and release in. Because as screwed up as it is to ask him to fuck the woman responsible for his girlfriend's death, Clarke feels it would be unbearable to know that his first time since then would be with said woman. Her eyes burn and her throat closes on Bellamy's behalf, wishing beyond all else that she could do this for him, fix this for him.  
  
A ragged breath draws her eyes back. Echo's body glides up and down smoothly, one arm around Bellamy's neck and the other resting on his forearm as she holds his bicep. She's looking out at the forest, lips pursed and expression annoyed as she works. Bellamy's hands are on her waist, keeping her as far from his own body as he can, eyes glued to her shoulder with a look of deep concentration, as if he's desperately trying to think of anything else other than what he's doing right now.  
  
Clarke wants to card her fingers through his curls, help him relax, remind him that she's here and that it's okay. The pull to comfort him is practically a physical thing, and she can almost feel herself doing it, deciding to take a step forward until Echo scoffs, stopping in her movements. Bellamy looks up, confused.  
  
Echo raises a brow. "This isn't going to work if you don't even try to enjoy yourself."  
  
Bellamy huffs, eyes going down as he tries to hide his face. But Clarke can see it, dark red across his dusky skin, and her heart hurts for him. His head twitches to the right, like he's about to turn to her, about to seek her out like they always do when they're unsure and needing each other. But he must change his mind, face folding back into Echo's body, this situation too different than all the others that they've been through. But she wishes he would, wishes he would turn to her for some sort of reassurance so she can feel useful to him in some way, help carry the weight of this with him like he's done so many times before.  
  
Echo sighs, eyes rolling as she slides her fingers down his arm, taking hold of his hand on her waist and raising it to her throat. Bellamy's gaze snaps up, brows furrowed as she holds his hand there before she begins moving once again. Clarke's not sure his hand would be staying there on its own if Echo wasn't keeping hold of it, thin fingers pressing hard against his thicker ones, coaxing him to take control as she stares intently into his eyes. She rolls her hips, her long strokes gradually becoming short and fast until she's practically bouncing atop him.

It gets the reaction she wanted. Bellamy groans, drawn out and deep, and the sound races down Clarke's body, straight to her pussy that clenches at nothing.

Echo clutches Bellamy's wrist as he starts to squeeze on his own, her mouth open wide. Bellamy grasps her hip with his free hand for purchase as he begins to push up into her, small squeaks escaping up Echo's throat and past the tight grip of Bellamy's hand. And it's all Clarke can do not to start touching herself then and there, her heart beating wildly as she takes in Bellamy's powerful form, the muscles beneath his skin sliding together as he fucks someone. Someone that's not her.  
  
Bellamy stands then, both hands holding Echo's weight under her ass. The movement makes her gasp before he has her up against a tree, his hand back on her throat as he pushes into her with more forceful, controlled thrusts. Echo grins, the leg Bellamy isn't holding sliding down over his ass, dropping to the ground and standing on her toes. When he opens his eyes he sees her smirk. His lips curl and his nose flares as he fucking _snarls_ at her, Clarke's belly fluttering at the sound. The tips of his fingers go white as he grips a little harder to her delicate neck, Echo's jaw dropping as she gasps.  
  
For a moment Clarke is worried. This is going too far. He's done what Echo wanted and lost himself in her sexual haze, but he might actually hurt her in the process. And the last thing he needs is something else to guiltily agonize over. But then Echo's smile returns as she tips her head against the rough bark of the tree, small moans coming from her every now and again, her nails digging into the skin of Bellamy's shoulder and wrist.  
  
Clarke licks her lips, dry from having been unknowingly breathing through her mouth. She can feel the heat on her face and her pulsing cunt. This is not going the way she thought it would. Her hand drifts up to her stomach, no longer able to keep from touching herself, even if it's something as innocuous as her belly, her finger peeking beneath the hem of her shirt. She watches Bellamy's ass, his legs, his back, all pushing and pulling as he mindlessly works towards his release. His thrusts start to become jerky, less precise, and she knows he's close, her breath coming faster and nipples tightening in anticipation.  
  
Then something unexpected happens, Echo is whispering something into his ear, fingers pushing into his sweaty curls making him look at her as he pants hard into her face. He nods slowly and she smiles as he lets her go. Clarke's confused for all of one minute until Echo drops to her knees, looking up at him with bright eyes and grinning mouth.  
  
The moan that tears from Clarke as Echo kisses the head of Bellamy's dick is obscene and shocking. She cuts it off quickly once she hears it, hand flying up to cover her mouth, but it's too late, and she feels three pairs of eyes on her. Though if she's honest, the only ones she cares about are Bellamy's. He's leaning forward, propped up on the tree with his arm outstretched, his other hand in Echo's hair as he holds her still. His eyes are on Clarke, curious and worried about her reaction until he sees the obvious heat of her, practically panting with her hand just under her shirt. He gives her a quick, tired smile that she returns, and she suddenly can't wait until they get home.

She lets her hand snake further up her shirt, squeezing the pliant flesh of her tits, Bellamy watching her the whole time, ass flexing as he starts fucking Echo's face. It's the most erotic thing she's ever done, and probably ever will do. She's not going to think of how embarrassing this whole thing will end up being later, because all she cares about right now is watching Bellamy get himself off.  
  
It doesn't take very long, Echo being surprisingly talented at this as she starts to take back the reins, Bellamy's cock almost completely disappearing between her lips. She chokes a bit, head jerking before backing off, bobbing fast and hard over the rest of him before going back in again, and damn it was actually quite impressive. It eventually becomes too much for him, eyes slamming shut as he drops onto his forearm with a groan, losing himself to Echo's adept mouth. Then Clarke sees it as his every muscle tightens, gripping tight and tense until he's slumping forward, forehead resting on his arm, his other hand releasing Echo's hair to hang at his side.  
  
Echo turns to look at Clarke, still holding Bellamy's softening dick in her hand, spitting his cum back up over the dark head, making Clarke whine, quiet and needy. Bellamy pushes her away, a thin white rope still connecting her lips to him, glistening in the sunlight until it snaps free. On shaky legs he walks to his pile of clothes, dressing without looking up, but Clarke can't take her eyes off him. He must feel her stare, finally getting the courage to glance up after slipping on his shirt.  
  
She can't help herself, Echo holding a sword to her throat wouldn't even be able to stop her as she makes her way to him, gazes soft on each other and alight with something new, a kind of desire that hadn't really been there before. Her fingers ghost across the smooth skin of his forearm, feeling the hairs there, his adam's apple bobbing nervously as he swallows.  
  
"That was all very unexpected," Roan calls from behind.  
  
Clarke's fingers wrap around Bellamy's thumb, squeezing gently with a sweet smile before turning to Roan with a roll of her eyes. He leans a shoulder on a tree, carefree and with an infuriating smirk.

"Do we have a deal, then?" she asks.  
  
He cocks his head, as if thinking about it and then nods, pushing off and making his own way back to the ravine. "I guess we do."


End file.
